


The Boss 8

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Series: The Boss [8]
Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, The Avengers
Genre: 70's Bucky strip club AU, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Murder, The Big Paris Adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: On your final night in Paris, you meet a man who would drive a wedge between you and Bucky.





	

From Wednesday until Sunday, all you and Bucky did was spend money like there was no tomorrow, drink to excess and dine out at fancy restaurants. Then you’d thank him every night when you fucked like a pair of wild animals. And somehow, despite your initial reservations, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Things at Legs were going swimmingly under Stevie’s watchful eye which put Bucky’s mind at ease. It also gave Bucky the headspace to focus on you, and only you. 

But things took an interesting turn on Sunday evening when you and Bucky sat huddled in the corner of a smoky bodega just off the theatre district. You were wrapped in Bucky’s thick, grey peacoat with your head resting on his chest while his arm was draped over you as he took in the band without a care in the world. 

Tonight, all the trust you had in Bucky Barnes, would begin to crumble.

You could feel it. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t sitting right with you about your setting. Eyes were on you, and they weren’t Bucky’s. You scanned the room. Then you saw him. 

He was sitting at the bar with his dark brown eyes trained on you. You stared back until the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk. He wasn’t unattractive, but he was unnerving. 

You looked up at Bucky who was still watching the jazz quartet. “ _Bucky?_ ” you whispered.

“ _What’s the matter, kiddo?_ ” he asked, lazily placing a kiss on your forehead.

“ _There’s a guy at the bar over there. And he won’t stop staring,_ ” you said.

“ _Where?_ ” Bucky asked, casting an eye over the faces at the bar. He found him perched at the very end. “ _Act natural,_ ” he said, rubbing your shoulder. 

“ _What?_ ” you asked, looking up at him. 

Bucky rose to his feet and strolled up to the bar, standing uncomfortably close to the man. Bucky ordered, flashing three of his graceful fingers at the bartender. You wondered what he was playing at. Then Bucky struck up a conversation with the man, sliding a measure of whisky his way. The man glanced over at you, continuing to speak to your boss. They both turned to look at you this time. Then Bucky nodded. 

They made their way back to the table, sitting on either side of you. Bucky placed your drink in front of you. You pressed yourself closer to Bucky. He wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“ _This is Marco,_ ” Bucky said, then he cast a hand over you, looking at Marco. “ _And this, is the most beautiful dancer at Legs. And she’s all mine._ ”

Marco stretched a nicotine stained hand in your direction. You reluctantly shook it. 

“ _Marco was telling me that he owns a club on the other side of the city,_ ” Bucky explained, rubbing your shoulder, “ _He liked the look of you, kiddo._ ”

You turned your head around and looked at Bucky perplexedly. “ _I hope you told him I’m not for sale,_ ” you remarked, half-jokingly.

Marco threw his two hands up in front of him defensively. “ _I mean no disrespect,_ ” he assured. 

“ _Good,_ ” you said, nestling back into Bucky’s jacket. You didn’t trust Marco.

“ _But I did tell him we’d check it out tonight, you in?_ ” Bucky asked, flashing you one of those sad, pleading looks that could convince you to do anything.

You thought for a moment, looking at Marco. Then at Bucky.

“ _Ok_ ,” you said, picking your drink up and throwing it back. You jabbed a finger in Marco’s direction, “ _but he needs to buy me another drink before we go._ ”

“ _As you wish,_ ” Marco smiled, pulling out a fat roll of francs, secured with a clip, from his pocket.

* * *

Your taxi drew up outside a plain looking townhouse on the other side of the city. Even in your mildly tipsy state, you knew it was a far cry from Legs. It looked nothing like the familiar world you had recently found yourself in. It made your stomach churn as you ascended the marble steps to the door, clinging on to Bucky’s arm.

“ _I’ve got a bad feeling about this,_ ” you muttered to Bucky.

“ _Relax, kiddo. I got you,_ ” he whispered.

Marco opened the door first, then gestured you both inside. 

You and Bucky stood in the deep red hallway arm in arm, trying to comprehend what you had just walked into. 

The first thing that caught your eye were the group of beautiful young women, crowded into the room at the end of the hallway. They were wearing nothing but silk robes and lingerie. They giggled amongst themselves as they cradled large glasses of wine and smoked cigarettes shoed into long holders. Then a red faced and weary looking gentleman spilled from the room next to you both, brushing past you to trudge up the staircase to your right. And then the sounds that came from the rooms leading up to it, that was the next thing. Those sounds painted the most vivid picture about where you found yourselves. This really was nothing like Legs, it was a brothel.

You looked up at Bucky, worried. 

“ _I got you,_ ” he repeated. 

It did nothing to allay your fears.

Marco led you both to the final room on the left hand side of the hallway. It was empty, bar two young women draped across the orange and gold sofa beside the sprawling window at the back of the room. 

“ _This is Maria and Francesca, they work here,_ ” Marco smiled. He gestured towards another sofa opposite the women. “ _Please, make yourself comfortable. Bucky and I will be back with drinks_.” 

You sat yourself down and nodded to the women as Bucky and Marco left the room. The three of you sat in silence. You hoped Bucky would return soon.

A pair of footsteps shuffled their way down the hallway to the room. Relief spread through you. 

Certain it was Bucky, you cast an eye to the door frame but were caught off guard when two tall, gangly figures entered. The first of the pair had a goatee and wore a dark blue lounge suit. He was the first to speak. In French. You didn’t know French. 

He eyed you and then pointed towards you, addressing the two women. Maria, the brunette, shrugged. 

The blond man, clad in purple, looked at his friend and then at the two women. He - you gathered - told them to leave the room.

You assumed you were a part of this, so you got up to leave, only to be stopped by the man in blue who shook his head. You tried to dodge him. By now, you were eager to leave the room, your panic mounting. The blond man grabbed your arms, pulling them behind you, and hauled you back over to the sofa. You fell on top of him. His friend stalked towards you. You were trapped between the pair.

You tried to scream for Bucky, but the man behind you simply clasped his hand over your mouth, the other man reached a stubby-fingered hand under your dress, snatching away your fine lace underwear. The man behind you took the opportunity to savagely grope any part of you available to him, while he kept you tightly restrained. Resistance was futile. Where was Bucky?

The man in front spat on his fingers and rubbed his hand over your pussy. You whimpered at his touch. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants.

History had a habit of repeating itself. 

A single gunshot boomed from one of the other rooms. And you so desperately hoped Bucky wasn’t on the receiving end of that bullet, if only to save you from this.

The man in blue froze, his limp cock in his hand. He cast an eye around his surroundings. The man in purple loosened his grip on you enough for you to squirm free for just a second. 

Bucky burst into the room and swiftly put a bullet in both of the men.

History had a habit of repeating itself.

* * *

 

The journey back to the hotel was an hysterical blur.

“ _Did you set that up?_ ” you cried, ripping off your blood stained dress.

Bucky walked towards you, sending you cowering back into the corner of the room. “ _I promise you-_ “

You threw your arms out to stop him. _“Don’t come any closer, Bucky, please!_ ” 

“ _Has the last week meant nothing to you? You think I’m just gonna pimp you out to some sweet talking jackass?_ ” Bucky asked, the hurt searing through his voice.

“ _You were the one who took me to that place. How do I know he didn’t… You didn’t…oh god_!” you babbled, running your hands over your face which was now scarred with running mascara.

 _“Look at me,_ ” he said, moving closer, “ _look at me._ ”

You couldn’t. 

His hands came to rest on your shoulders. “ _I love you, kiddo._ ”

It had the adverse effect on you. You looked up at him. “ _Fuck you!_ ” you snarled. You pushed Bucky away and ran to the bathroom to wash the blood and the filth away from your skin.

And then the telephone rang. Images of Bucky being taken away raced through your mind. 

Bucky tensed his jaw and picked up the receiver. He listened. Then his features softened. A familiar voice.

“ _Uh-huh… ok_ ,” he droned.

Then his eyes widened with panic. “ _We’ll be home soon._ ”

He carefully put down the receiver. His eyes may have been drowned by fear. But his tone. His movements. They were measured. And even. Like he was back home.

“ _Don’t think we’re done here, Bucky, because we’re not,_ ” you warned him, still frantic. 

“ _Get in the fuckin’ shower, wash that shit off and pack your bags. I don’t wanna hear another word,_ ” Bucky drawled, his voice almost serpentine. 

“ _What?_ ” you asked, shaking your head.

“ _We’re flying home tonight._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> A short - but integral - part of the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!


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